All's Fair in Love and War
by PokerFace312
Summary: What's the fun in snow if no one gets any shoved down their shirt?


Marco tightened his scarf around his neck as a cold wind blew past him, the campus dusted by a thick layer of snow that had fallen the night before, arriving far earlier than expected. His classes had ended for the day and he now was braving the weather in a quest for coffee to warm him even the slightest bit, the heating only having just been turned on in the dorms.

A gasp of shock caught on his lips and something smacked against the back of his head, tiny bits of coldness falling under his scarf and down the back of his coat. He didn't have to turn around to know who had thrown the snowball, the obnoxious chortling of his roommate resonating loudly. "Jean?!" The moment his eyes found the assailant, he was stooping down to crush the soft white powder at his feet into a snowball of his own, but he wasn't fast enough as another hit him in the shoulder.

Oh, this meant _war_.

Without another thought, Marco began running forward and shot the projectile out, lowering his body and grabbing more handfuls of snow as soon as he had done so. Jean let out a surprised yelp as the first one hit his side, the cry quickly followed by laughing as he turned tail and took shelter behind a tree.

Marco neared, but Jean held his ground rather than running. Suspicions rising, the freckled boy gathered more snow in his hands as he slowly drew closer, making his ammo as large as he could manage. When he was a few paces away from the tree, however, Jean suddenly shot out with a good half dozen snowballs cradled in his left arm, another already brandished in his right hand. A short squeak left Marco as the first of the volley hit him, but he didn't back down. He let the snowball clenched in his right hand fly, easily hitting Jean across the side of the head thanks to the now close proximity, and then thrusting his emptied hand out to grab the collar his opponent's shirt.

"Oh, dude, no," Jean half laughed as he realized Marco's intent a second too late to stop it. The large ball still in Marco's left hand was shoved down his shirt and, not giving it time to just fall out the bottom, the taller boy quickly pushed against Jean's shirt to crush the frozen water against his bare chest. "Ahhh! That's fucking cheap!" The blond boy jumped back, letting his guard down completely and he stuck his hands up his shirt from the bottom, trying to scrape out the snow and giving Marco a lovely view of his stomach in the process.

He couldn't let this opportunity slip away, now could he? Oh no, that would be criminal.

Jean still with his shirt lifted and the lower area of his torso bare, Marco jumped forward and grabbed him around the chest, easily knocking him off balance so that they would fall to the ground. A stream of curses and the repeated word "cold" flew from Jean's mouth as he wriggled under Marco's unyielding grasp. "I give, I give! You win!"

"Will you buy me a coffee?"

"Fucking- Fine! Yes, I'll buy you a coffee, now let me up you Goliath!"

"Yay!" Marco leaned down and pressed a quick kiss on Jean's nose before standing, reaching a hand back down to pull a ticked off Jean up with him.

Once standing, Jean faced his boyfriend and wrapped his arms loosely around Marco's waist, a pout apparent on his face. "That was mean."

"So was hitting me in the back of the head with a snowball!"

"I think you need to make it up to me."

Marco cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? But you already agreed to buy me a coffee."

Instead of replying, Jean shoved one of his hands down the back of Marco's pants and the taller boy gasped in shock and betrayal as he felt snow being crushed against his ass, drops of melted water dripping down after having been warmed in Jean's hand which had been kept out of Marco's view. "You dick!"

"There you go," Jean said with a shit eating grin plastered across his face, "Now you've made it up to me."

Marco just gave his boyfriend a semi-light slap across the top of his head before reaching down and entwining their fingers, continuing the trek he'd been taking before he had been so rudely interrupted. "Just for that, you're buying me two coffees."


End file.
